One More Kiss
by SherrySummer
Summary: Lucien pays a farewell visit to his Sanctuary before the Purification. Lucien/Vicente. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Lucien pays a farewell visit to his Sanctuary before the Purification. Lucien/Vicente. Slash.

Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion and its characters.

A.N. This fic would have never come about without The Winged Ferret's 'The Fangirl Sacrifice'. Prior to that, I never even thought about the Vicente/Lucien pairing. But really, I have to blame Crisium more for this story because I would not have actually written it without her 'dare' challenge. So Crisium, this one is for you. ^_^

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One More Kiss

There is nothing unusual about Lachance's visit to his own Sanctuary. After all, it is his responsibility to oversee its running. And though the Imperial looks much too tired and even paler than usual – such an unnatural complexion for an Imperial, a simple explanation is at hand for the visible neglect. His duties as a Speaker have kept him busy.

Really though, Vicente feigns ignorance because he does not want Lucien to destroy the one chance of fulfilling his secret yearning. He has sent countless souls to the realm of their Dread Father only to be denied the final peace himself. There is nothing more disconcerting than to know that he may never meet his own end without disgracing his name as a professional assassin. Sithis would not welcome him with open arms, were he to deliberately sabotage the services expected of him. Love is no excuse for an assassin to miss his mark.

Vicente longs for the Void. He has lived long, far too long for a Breton. His race is simply not designed for such a long life span. There is no more delight in his heart when he spills blood for their Dread Father. Everything has become too repetitive and dull. Once, he was grateful for being accepted into a family, for the opportunity to converse with like-minded individuals. For two hundred years, the Dark Brotherhood has been all he's got. His adopted family gave him a purpose, a meaning of existence that he thought he had lost forever. Now, it is no longer enough. His mind has grown more and more despondent with each passing year.

Of course, he knows the Purification is coming. His pity for his family, however, does nothing to abate the maddening anticipation for his own end. Except,

Vicente still cares for one thing in his undead life. One person who can make him feel as though his still heart is beating, pumping warm blood into his frozen veins. One person whose lust-tinted love he desires and fears like nothing else in his unnaturally long existence. Lucien doesn't even have to speak of love. The Imperial could break Vicente's firm resolve by merely professing his need for the vampire.

Lucien naturally does no such thing. He is faithful to a fault when it comes to duties. He cannot possibly warn Vicente of the impending doom that awaits his Sanctuary. Ironically, it is Vicente who taught Lucien the secrets of the Void and helped him become a living incarnation of their Dread Father Sithis. Black as night and cold as winter, Lucien's heart is a thing of beauty. He is the sanest of the Black Hand for only the purest black can absorb red and remain unscathed.

Clad in his robes and hood, Lucien's calm composure never falters as he enquires about the progress of each and every family member and listens to Vicente's catalogue of accounts as though Fate has not deserted his family. And for that, Vicente is grateful.

The desirable end of this visit would be rather simple, really. Lucien will leave the Sanctuary as though he hasn't come to say farewell to his most skilled assassin, the one family member he cares for above everyone else. He will not look back, leaving his assassins behind along with one vampire whose blood would leave a mark on even his blackened heart. Vicente will get his possibly only invitation to the embrace of the Void.

Lucien's touch isn't all that important for the turn of this unremarkable event. It is just a brotherly gesture, a hand on the other's arm as he speaks their usual parting words. Unfortunately, the simple motion sparks a long-forgotten hope and like a fool, Vicente searches the impassive face for a sign, any expression that may just betray Lucien's feelings towards him. A glimpse of anguish in the deep brown eyes is the only response to the unguarded longing. It isn't what he has been looking for, but Vicente is now trapped helplessly. He can no longer shake off the question that he desperately wanted to ignore.

_What will become of him when I'm gone?_

It really isn't fair that he worries. He dreads that Lucien may be the next target of the Black Hand if the purification yields no satisfactory outcome. The prominent Speaker's end may be much worse than the fates of those whom he has forsaken for the love of Sithis and the Night Mother. But what is one moment of painful despair, however intense, when viewed from the perspective of infinity? If Vicente misses this one opportunity, he may have to endure an eternity of joyless existence, with no prospect of ever meeting his beloved Speaker in the Void.

Regrettably, Vicente's mind still thinks like a mortal. When the vision of Lucien covered in crimson red assaults him mercilessly, all his reasons simply fail to convince him that it does not matter in the entire scheme of things.

"You are not sleeping well," Vicente finally speaks, somehow managing to keep his tone neutral. There is no denying, however, that the Imperial _must_ have seen the secrets of his weary heart.

"Brother, if I did not know any better, I would presume that you had impure designs on me," Lucien replies, his eyes now sparkling with amusement. "It would then be impolite of me to leave you while you were in a state of painful arousal."

"It would be, wouldn't it?"

Lucien's hand on Vicente's arm tightens to an iron grip. And when his lips furiously descend on the other's willing mouth, Vicente cannot remember why he wanted to die in the first place. The kiss is forceful and demanding, as though anything short of complete submission is unforgivable. Nevertheless, it is sweeter than any kiss Vicente has ever tasted. Because it is from Lucien Lachance, and there is nothing brotherly about it.

To Vicente's disappointment, Lucien releases the other man from their embrace all too soon. And with a triumphant grin at the sight of the vampire's bruised and swollen lips, he turns and leaves the room.

Lucien of course has no idea what he has just done. But Vicente knows he can no longer quietly await his end in the Sanctuary. He will have to make himself mysteriously disappear. He will uncover and dispose of the traitor, because his mortal mind is now convinced that he can trade his eternal peace for just one more kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

It has been a week since Vicente went missing. Since he only went to the Imperial City and his target was still alive two days later, his disappearance was soon noticed. He was declared as missing three days after the expected time of his return to the Sanctuary.

It was no disaster, only another puzzle that baffled the Black Hand. The traitor has been more daring lately. In the beginning, the assassins simply disappeared. Then, the pattern altered; the bodies were left where they could easily be found. It was as though their enemy within wanted his or her presence to be acknowledged. So, why the sudden change of tactic again?

The search party found nothing except Vicente's horse in the Chestnut Handy Stables. No trace of the vampire was to be found. It could have been treated as yet another casualty that the Brotherhood suffered. Only, the timing seemed to be rather too convenient. Was it a mere co-incidence that Vicente went missing a week before the scheduled Purification when he survived two hundred years as a professional assassin? No Hand members related it to his person, but Lucien knew the question in everyone's mind.

_Did you warn him, Brother?_

It was merely another example of the painful fact that his colleagues had little faith in him. He was a Speaker of a treacherous Sanctuary, and that made his position nearly as precarious as his doomed subordinates. A Brother, he still was to his robed kin. For how much longer, he didn't know.

Lucien refused to dignify the unspoken accusation with an attempt to clear his name. It was no use, anyway. The Black Hand was not renowned for their fair and levelheaded judgements. Besides, what could he say? He suspected that Vicente's evaporation had been caused by … a kiss? Apart from the pleasure of seeing the stunned expressions of his colleagues, it would not have done him any favours.

It was during a fierce debate about the nature of Vicente's disappearance that their informant in the Imperial City finally came back with crucial information. A beggar had been trying to find a vendor for an Ebony Claymore. The story was that he had found the pricey weapon in the back alley near Elven Garden Sewers, next to a body that slowly melted away as the sun rose. There were two other witnesses, too. And all of them agreed that the deceased man in question looked like a vampire of Breton origin. The ruling council was rather happy to conclude that Vicente was dead. They had more pressing matters to concern themselves with, such as dealing with the rest of the potential traitors in the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. They could not afford another drawback like that.

And so, Lucien waits for the arrival of his future Silencer in a shadowy fort, which he made something closest to home. Somehow, he feels Vicente is still alive, and yet his failure to voice his misgivings to the Hand does not strike him as inexcusable omission. His duties compel him to see to it that the Purification must be performed, since a Speaker must be bound by the decisions of the ruling council. It isn't his fault that the Hand declared Vicente already dead and removed him from the list of the soon-to-be sacrificed. He will not apologize for the sense of relief that he does not have to order Vicente Valtieri's death.

The vampire assassin has been often in Lucien's thoughts. It isn't, however, till his eyes land on the blood-soaked blade of the intruder that he realises just how much he has valued Vicente. Perhaps, it isn't fair to call the Bosmer an Intruder since she is there because of his invitation. Nevertheless, Lucien cannot help but muse that Vicente would have left every single dark guardian of his intact. And when her excited, enthusiastic face turns pale with horror at the disclosure of what she is about to do, Lucien, somewhat bitterly, thinks how differently his vampire would have reacted to such news.

It isn't of course that difficult to persuade her to carry out his order. She is young, naïve, but ambitious. Most of all, she is eager to please Lucien. A scroll, a poisoned apple and a chaste kiss on her forehead are all that she needs to overcome her anxiety at the enormity of her task. The kiss is gentle and brief. Her heart swells with warmth and pride at the touch. She believes the gesture as an assurance of his affection.

Lucien, however, feels nothing of the sort. The kiss is blank and only magnifies the sense of loss that has come over him. He remembers another kiss, one that made him nearly lose his control. The one kiss that bore the mark of eternity. It annoys him that her presence only reminds him of what could have been and yet never will be. So, he tells her that she has no time to waste. When he is left again in the silence of his own company, he decides that he will not keep her close. He will send her away as soon as she comes back.

Weeks pass as flawlessly as they can. The Purification is complete. His Silencer has not disappointed him so far. She has proven herself as a cunning and ruthless killer, faithfully completing contract after contract without the support of a family. The Night Mother's keen interest in her seems to have been justified. The hollow feeling inside him, however, shows no sign of subsiding. A part of him is missing, and has been missing for a while. Unfortunately, it is the part that is only allowed to live when separated from him. Lucien therefore makes no effort to reclaim what is his.

Then, one morning, he wakes up to a faint whimper and finds his Silencer writhing next to him, tied and gagged. The sight should have been alarming, but it only brings a smile on his lips. There is only one person apart from himself who could outsmart the Bosmer like that. And Vicente's present is certainly very suggestive, if nothing else.

The smile dies quickly as Lucien scans through the parchment artfully placed between his Silencer's thighs. His Dead Drop Order has been compromised. _How far did she go? She didn't. She couldn't have. _She could not have been stupid enough not to recognise his handwriting?

It turns out that she was. Fortunately for Lucien, she didn't have the opportunity to play a puppet for the traitor; she was attacked while trying to break into J'Ghasta's house. The Imperial finally breathes a sigh of relief. If he only suspected it before, Lucien now _knows_ just what his kiss meant to Vicente.


	3. Chapter 3

A.N. We all know that the Black Hand were only made out to be stupid because the Oblivions producers needed them to be. If they had not been, Bellamont would not have survived the Purification and hence no subsequent storyline that would result in the destruction of the Black Hand. Since I used the same plot that the Purification happened, conveniently leaving out Bellamont, I'm probably just as bad as the DB questline script writers. :( And since I can't suddenly make them all shrewd and wise, they will have to suffer their supposed idiocy a while longer. :D Hope that explains this chapter. ^_^ And many thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. :)

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By the time Lucien and his Silencer arrive at Bruma, Shadowmere is long gone. Lucien's Silencer looks upset and crestfallen at her carelessness over … well, everything, but especially over the loss of his special gift.

Suspecting Shadowmere is with someone who will make far better use of her service, Lucien buys the Bosmer a Paint horse and considers it money well spent. A slow horse is exactly what she needs. If she is prone to making gullible mistakes, he is now certain that he can catch up with her whenever necessary. The Imperial sends her away to where she should have gone in the first place after giving her details of three more contracts. She should be occupied for a while without committing another dim-witted move. And if she does, it will merely endanger her own life. He has more important things to do than babysitting her.

Lucien's little prudence in sending a note to J'Ghasta prior to their meeting has been well justified. The Khajiit seems reasonably happy to see him in a public place and in broad daylight. Still, did he really have to bring along Hoar-Blood? Lucien does not know whether he should feel flattered or offended by the sudden caution exercised by his colleague - and the only one with a somewhat favourable disposition towards him for that matter - around him. It is of course good to know that J'Ghasta believes his Imperial Brother may just better him. Nevertheless, it borders on an insult to think that Lucien would consider committing a murder in such an indiscrete manner.

Only after examining the forged Dead Drop Order, the distrustful look on J'Ghasta's face vanishes. Naturally, he does not offer words of regret, since they would merely confirm the fact that he was suspicious of Lucien in the first place. In any case, the Black Hand does not apologise. Lucien can graciously settle for J'Ghasta's bitter admission, almost a snarl; "We've been played for a fool."

J'Ghasta's next words, however, are hard to stomach even for Lucien who understands the workings of the ruling council well enough. There will be a Hand assembly in Bravil, to which Lucien has not been invited. They were quick to show him just how much they trusted their Imperial Brother. Again, the Khajiit offers no excuse for the convenient omission. Instead, he produces the letter that warned him and other Hand members about the arrival of Lucien's Silencer at his door with uncharitable intention. There is no doubt that the handwriting belongs to the very hand that forged the Dead Drop Order. Only this time, it claims to be from a 'Friend'.

It doesn't exactly surprise Lucien that it takes so long for the ruling council just to decide whether he should join the meeting. He will eventually be allowed in, since they have no case against him, just yet. He doesn't bother to strain his ears to make sense of the hushed whispers coming from Ungolim's living room upstairs. He will say his piece when the time comes, even though he doubts that they will give it due consideration.

His thoughts inevitably drift to Vicente. Given the Black Hand's track record, he cannot be blamed for placing his trust on his vampire rather than on all the Hand members put together. It is now obvious to him that the traitor has already penetrated into the very core of the Brotherhood. And since the Hand cannot purify itself, the process of surgery will be a torturously slow one. He isn't sure how many of them will survive it. He cannot be even certain whether he will live long enough to see Vicente to tell him how much he appreciated the vampire's gift.

The waiting is over, and his colleagues' expressions say it all. They – save J'Ghasta whose deathly confrontation with Lucien's Silencer would surely have established the Imperial's guilt - are rather disappointed that they cannot pinpoint Lucien as the traitor. The evidence they thought they would have secured is lamentably flawed. That of course does not mean that they absolve him of any suspicion. It merely means that they ought to find out who this 'Friend' is. It also means that the assassin among assassins could be any one of them, which really isn't a comforting thought. If they are not particularly grateful to Lucien for finding out about the forged order, it is all very understandable.

The Black Hand has never been fond of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary or its Speaker. Their faith in Lucien's Silencer, however, knows no bounds. The Night Mother's special interest in her assured that. Since she could do no wrong, no one asks about how their Imperial colleague came by the sham order. They simply assume that his Silencer must have reported it to him. Though that observation makes Lucien feel bitter, he isn't about to tell them what they do not ask.

If the Hand becomes aware of Vicente's survival, their perverted logic may just convince them that the vampire is the 'Friend' they are looking for. The same twisted logic is what made them suspicious of him in the first place. A half-intelligent traitor in a position of a Speaker would not have attacked his own Sanctuary members first. But they could and would believe it, given half the opportunity; they would argue that was exactly why Lachance killed off his assassins one by one so that no one would suspect him to be the culprit. For that reason, Lucien remains silent over Vicente's involvement in preventing the near disaster his Silencer was perfectly capable of. He cannot risk providing the Hand with any distraction from pursuing the real traitor.

The ensuing discussion is tediously long, but the agreements finally reached are less than satisfactory. The Black Hand now officially agrees that the traitor is among their midst. Since none of them can recall seeing the handwriting of their 'Friend' before, they have the same opinion that the slimy worm must have sought out the help of a forger. And even though they have love for opposing Lucien at every turn, they are for once happy with his supposition that the conspirator's rank must be that of a Silencer - a Speaker would have had ample opportunities to secure a written communication from the Imperial. After all, they have always known that no Speaker other than Lachance could be a suspect.

Not surprisingly, Lucien's offer to take up the investigation, starting with forgers around Cyrodiil, has been rejected. So was his suggestion that the Speakers should temporarily withdraw from their normal duties and concentrate on observing their Silencer's move. Apparently, the resulting disruption to their business is exactly what the traitor wants, and the Brotherhood will not give their enemy the satisfaction of seeing their profit dwindle. Never mind that Lucien argued a similar point against the Purification, for which he was simply accused of protecting his own over the good of the whole assassin guild. He will have to be content with the fact that the Speakers will keep a tighter reign on their respective Silencers than before.

Still, an extreme situation surely calls for extraordinary measures. Right? The resolution finally accepted is certainly faithful to the Black Hand's fondness for drastic solutions. Though it is rather ludicrous, it does agree with the paranoia that is building up within the Hand. After the completion of the current contracts and until the traitor is dealt with, each Speaker and all his assassins will only operate within the county where their Sanctuary belongs. Anyone spotted outside their designated territory would be killed with no question being asked. The agreement must be rigidly adhered to, except when the Listener or the majority of the Speakers demands another Hand meeting.

Lucien of course considers this as a suicidal decision. It effectively bars any of them chasing after the conspirator, if identified, beyond their own county. And it still leaves open the possibility of the traitor slipping in and out of each county undetected. At least, however, the Silencers will now have to give thorough accounts for their whereabouts, and this should make the scheming rat's life rather difficult. Lucien can only hope that the new development will buy Vicente enough time to identify – perhaps even secure evidence against – the traitor before another blow to their guild.

Days turn into weeks. Nothing useful came out of the forged letters. There was one forger who may have helped to solve their mystery. But he had been already murdered, and even the fearsome assassin guild could not question a dead man.

Lucien keeps himself busy, since Ungolim manages to find a list of clients that will occupy him so. His Silencer is thriving of course, even managing to get herself a black horse with her well-earned gold. Every soul they send to the Void is a proof that they have not strayed outside their designated area. Lucien has to be grateful for the zeal and capability of his Silencer, even though he prefers seeing her bound and gagged. As for the all-important writhing part, he has someone else in mind.

Every so often, he has been back at his fort, hoping to find a sign of Vicente. The traitor has not struck again, but a month is a long time and Lucien has yet to hear from his vampire. Despite his usually unfailing confidence, he begins to wonder whether he was mistaken about the strength of Vicente's feelings towards him. Was the present from the vampire a final one? A parting gift that promised no future?

_He will be back_. Lucien tells himself. His self-assurance over the matters of the heart may not be enough to convince him of the vampire's inevitable return. He knows, however, Vicente better than anyone else. His vampire would not have taken Shadowmere without good reason. The least he can do in return is to survive the crisis that threatens to tear the Black Hand apart.


	4. Chapter 4

A.N. So here goes the final chapter for my version of this crazy pairing. :)

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Lucien has yet to know his enemy's face. He will not recognize the voice of the traitor as such, even if they come face-to-face. He can, however, hear the venomous hiss that is like creeping bugs, hungry and persistent: "I will have you kneeling before me."

Knowing that someone tried and nearly succeeded in framing him for the one deed he will not excuse is bad enough. Being unable to act, with no prospect of successful retaliation in sight, is worse, much worse. The sense of powerlessness gnaws at him, and the jeer that taunts him grows louder each day. But Lucien knows that his enemy must also be becoming impatient and restless, and that is a comfort enough to keep him focused on daily business.

The waiting game continues, and when he at last hears something other than the list of clients from Ungolim, he can sense its end nearing: the traitor has struck again. Arquen, the Listener's Silencer, and Bellamont, Banus' Silencer, both have gone missing. And the living, whoever that may be, is declared to be the assassin among assassins.

_Regrettable, but a necessary blow to urge the Black Hand into decisive action_. Not quite so, according to Ungolim. There is no need to panic, he writes. Business must go on as usual, since his new Silencer is perfectly capable of defeating the conspirator. When Lucien realises just exactly whom Ungolim has appointed as Arquen's successor, he merely laughs, hollow, bitter and void of mirth. The Black Hand is doomed, but at least he is finally free to act, in between visiting clients and spilling the blood they demand in exchange for gold.

The parting scene is disappointingly lacking in drama. She seems more upset at Lucien's lack of emotion than at the prospect of leaving his service, since she can see that she is climbing up the ladder and fast. His talks of duty and the glory of Sithis do little to excite her. But she believes in destiny and her own talents and figures that the position of Speaker isn't that hard to achieve. Once there, he will have no option but to pay more attention to her. As his lips graze her forehead, a command to leave, she is convinced that they will soon meet as equals.

The trap door is once again securely shut above him, leaving him to contemplate his next move in comforting silence. Or what was once comforting silence; it is still familiar, but there is no peace in it. What would he not give to hear that smooth, velvety voice again?

It is not a silky voice but a distinct neigh of a horse that answers him. Lucien finds Shadowmere standing proud in the courtyard, with a rather frightened Bosmer boy on the ground a few feet away from the black beauty.

"Are you the owner of this … horse?" The mer asks wearily and decides that the answer is yes when a cold, calculating gaze falls upon him. With fumbling fingers, he produces a sealed envelope from his sack. "I was told to deliver this to you."

As the messenger limps away, a few septims richer, Lucien breaks the seal and finds a letter written in elegant, flowing handwriting.

_A boy has grown __into a man, still weeping for his Mother. He will not know peace till his Mother stops talking to him. In the cellar of the Anvil lighthouse, there is something that you need to see._

_We are all puppets of Fate till a string is cut loose. The show still goes on, but it is not too late to rewrite the end of the play. _

Five days and five fulfilled contracts later, Lucien finds himself in Bellamont's former hideout. And in that place of madness and despair, he finds what he has come for. A leather-bound book written with cold hatred and blood lies next to a decayed head.

The obsession that has filled each and every page is thick and suffocating, a soundless scream that has hatched and fuelled a daring scheme against the Dark Brotherhood and Lucien himself. There has been always something unsettlingly personal in his enemy's campaign, and the Imperial at last understands why it is he who has been thus targeted.

Having stuffed the evidence of conspiracy into his bag, the Imperial decides to head straight to Bravil. The Hand needs to know exactly which face they are looking for. As he exits the living, breathing tomb, however, a familiar robed figure greets him, with an odd mixture of nervous apprehension and relief. The Black Hand has been trying to reach him. Or rather they have been frantically trying to reach each other.

_Ungolim has fallen at the hands of the traitor, and his newly appointed Silencer, with all her promises and blessings of the Night Mother, never even made it to Bravil._

_How things change and quickly_. Lucien feels many things as Banus fills him in with the latest events, but grief is not one of them.

There is an emergency meeting set up in Skingrad, and the long-forgotten Brotherly love and solidarity once again graces the air. They are the survivors and determined not to suffer another loss. Armed with the proof of treachery, Lucien tells them his plan and for once his Brothers listen with due respect and willingness to co-operate.

"I am to be the bait, and you will be the hunters."

And so, in the depth of Fort Farragut, in one of the many uninhabitable cells, Bellamont meets his pitiful end. Peace is finally granted upon him, but the hollow holes that were once eyes and the blood-soaked, torn apart skin are the telling evidence of how torturous the journey must have been.

After so many defeats, the one final success is exhilarating and impressionable. Even the Night Mother seems to agree. As the survivors of the Hand stand before their spiritual leader, her voice melts with sweet laughter. She tells them she is most pleased with them and especially with their new Listener.

_The Listener_. Lucien smiles as the Unholy Matron bestows her blessings upon him, raising him above all her children. He has rewritten the end of the play. _Oh, but there is more_, she assures. _You will find your reward in Fort Farragut. The puppet who has cut loose his strings waits for your return_.

"Later," is the first word he utters as the Listener of the Black Hand to his Speakers, who are now eager and willing to receive his instructions. There is much work to be done, but none is as important as finding his promised reward. After all that waiting, this is the one meeting he will not wish to delay.

There is a simmer of quiet excitement in his dark chamber as he climbs down the ladder, flickering red lights in his Void. And it is no longer empty.

"I trust that the grieving boy finally found his silence."

Lucien turns with deliberate slowness, and when he finally faces the lithe form of his vampire, he does not speak for a while, as though afraid of disturbing the moment of perfect silence between them. When he finally parts his lips, neither his words nor his tone betray the whirlwind of emotions raging inside him. But Lucien was for once unguarded in his silence, and Vicente could clearly hear what he so badly had wanted to: _I crave for you_.

"I see you have returned."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"Then, you will stay?"

Vicente cannot answer as his lips are crushed open. Lucien has decided to take what is his, and Vicente is only happy to oblige. Hot breath caresses cold skin, and the cool hands reciprocate without hesitance or uncertainty. There is no smooth efficiency, when they shed their clothing, their mouths mostly locked and hands busy exploring. But the smouldering desires keep them going undeterred till Lucien pins Vicente to the bed securely beneath his weight.

Lucien's hands are still rough and demanding, but they now move with purpose. There is a regard for the vampire in his eyes, even as the shade of lust becomes darker and thicker. No sweet nothings are whispered in Vicente's ear, but he is made to feel the rare expression of affection when Lucien's lips unexpectedly and gently land on his temple, his eyelids and the crook of his neck. The pain that follows is sweet and addictive, as Lucien thrusts into his vampire repeatedly and mercilessly. The pain will linger even as the ripples of pleasure leave his body, a satisfying reminder of their joining and his fulfilled desire.

As they lie together, with Lucien's one arm possessively encircling his chest, Vicente is convinced that he will not regret his decision to live. He has bargained his eternal peace just for one kiss, and his mortal weakness may still come back to haunt him. But for now, he is given back his desire for life, far more than what he had bargained for, and he will make the most of it while it lasts.


End file.
